Wetness pooled between my thighs. The desire for him to touch me, to slip his fingers inside me right here in the kitchen, was so strong I inched up on my tiptoes and arched my back, urging his hand lower.
He cursed roughly and pulled the fabric out from between my cheeks. His hand slid around my hip, grasping my waist to match the other one. They were so close to my breasts I was losing my mind. I fell back until I was leaning against him, and my entire body sang like it never had before.
My nerve endings buzzed and sparked like rain on a live wire. He was so warm and hard. His erection pressed against my lower back. Nicolas Russo was turned on, and I’d never experienced a single thing more thrilling.
My head rested on his chest, and the buttons on his dress shirt tickled my bare spine. I brought my hand to my waist and slipped my fingers between his. Our breathing filled the kitchen.
When I heard my brother’s laughter from downstairs, I realized how dangerous this was. Anyone could come in.
“You want me to respect you?”
It was a loaded question, but I only knew one answer. Only wanted one thing from this man, and only needed it once so I could know what it was like.
I shook my head.
I wanted him to disrespect me. Every inch of me.
His hands tightened on my waist almost painfully, as if he struggled to keep them there. He nuzzled the back of my head, but his voice was suddenly as cold as ice. “You like it when men disrespect you?”
A chill passed through me.
My hand still rested on his, and he gently spun my ring with a finger until the jewel faced downward. His teeth scraped my ear. “Or maybe you just like to get them all worked up, panting after you.”
His lips brushed my neck and goose bumps broke out along my body.
“So, which one is it?”
I was a slut or a tease.
Those were the options he’d given me—what he thought of me. Frustration expanded in my chest.
“Both.”
He stilled, before making an angry sound in his throat and shoving me away from him.
I grasped the counter, catching myself, and then spun around.
His gaze flared. “Looks like you’re as big of a cheat as I am, Elena.”
What was that supposed to mean? That was the second time he’d insinuated I was somehow disloyal.
Ice trickled into my veins when someone appeared at the top of the basement stairs. Gabriella. She looked between us, back and forth, then smiled awkwardly and hurried from the kitchen.
I wasn’t in a position to analyze why she had been down there with three of the men in my family, and even if I were, I didn’t care to dwell on it. The relief was palpable that she hadn’t entered a moment sooner.
“Go upstairs and change, Elena.” Nico’s voice was hard and uncompromising.
Did he honestly believe I would do what he said? God, he was so full of himself.
My eyes narrowed. “No.”
He ran his tongue across his teeth, and before I understood his intention, he had an arm around the backs of my thighs and my feet left the floor. A breath whooshed out of me as he tossed me over his shoulder.
“Guess I’ll have to do it for you then,” he bit out as he carried me to the door.
“Okay! Okay, I’ll do it.”
When he didn’t put me down, I struggled and tried to wiggle out of his grip. His arm tightened around my thighs like a vise and I couldn’t move an inch. He pushed open the swinging door and panic flooded me.
“Stop!” I hissed, hanging upside down. “I said, I’ll do it.”
“Ask me nicely.”
My teeth clenched. “Please, put me down.”
He dropped me to my feet in the foyer. His eyes flicked to the staircase, in that commanding way of telling me to get there.
“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” I told him as I walked away, my heart beating so hard against my ribcage it hurt.
He released a sardonic breath. “You haven’t seen anything, Elena.”
Truthfully, that’s what I was worried about.
ELENA
“COME IN!”
The door of the penthouse on the twenty-second floor swung open, and Gianna stood on the other side. I didn’t believe that even someone who knew Gianna would be able to guess what she would wear next.
Tonight, it was a small black dress with a hem cutting diagonally from one hip to the opposite knee. Tall red pumps. Fishnet stockings. Wavy hair that was half-up, tied in two knots on the top of her head, and no makeup. Really, she didn’t need it.
“You’re early!” she exclaimed. Her eyes shone a little too bright, her pupils too large. She was high. Cocaine, most likely.
“I’ve brought some bruschetta and seafood salad,” Mamma said, moving into the kitchen with a tiny bowl of tomatoes while Benito struggled with everything else.
Adriana and I stayed in the hallway, hesitating.
Why was Gianna answering Nicolas’s door?
A sliver of something unpleasant curled in my chest, and for a split second, I didn’t like Gianna. The feeling was so strong and sudden I had to inhale a breath to push it away.
It was an unreasonably jealous reaction I shouldn’t have had, especially after yesterday. The problem was, I could still feel his hands on me, like I’d been branded for life. The only other man who’d gotten as close as Nicolas had a warm, gentle touch which faded to memory only seconds later. What I would give to reverse the two.
Adriana stepped into the apartment, her eyes taking it all in. “So, this is going to be my prison cell.”
Mamma gasped and spun around to shoot her a look. “Adriana!”
My sister walked further into the room with me following behind.
Gianna laughed. “Thankfully, this prison comes with great amenities. I’ll give you a tour!”
Apparently, Nicolas owned a few properties in New York and he’d chosen this one for Adriana. It wasn’t as quaint or as homey as his red-brick house, but it was upscale in every meaning of the word.
It was modernly decorated, with white and silver marble floors, lots of glass tables and chrome finishes. The lighting was dim and romantic, twinkling off the wall of glass that showcased the city. It was breathtaking, but I knew my sister would hate it.
“I hate it,” she said sourly, examining the view.
“Oh, come on,” Benito responded, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “It ain’t so bad. Look, it’s even got a pool.”
It did. The blue water lay still, the railing nothing but glass before a two-hundred-foot drop.
“If you like it so much, then you live here,” Adriana said.
“Don’t think Nico likes me like that.”
A hint of a smile tugged at my sister’s lips.
Gianna and Mamma took the tour by themselves, my mother’s “oohs” and “ahhs”drifting down the hallway.
Nobody else had arrived yet, not even the groom.
He was probably planning to leave Adriana here and to only show up when conjugal visits were necessary. My cousin Cici, who lived in Chicago, got the same fate. Though, she didn’t despise it so much because she hated her husband.
With the thought of “conjugal visits” sticking around like a bad aftertaste, I decided I needed some alcohol. So I went in search of some.
My head was in the fridge when I heard him behind me.
“Look at you, snooping through my shit. You’d think I was marrying you instead.”
His voice sent a shiver down my back, but I ignored it and grabbed a wine cooler off the shelf.
Closing the fridge, I turned around.
Nicolas stood on the other side of the island, his gaze on me as he dropped a folder next to Mamma’s appetizers. He must have come straight from work, because he only wore a black button-up shirt and pants. Not dressed for a party. His hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and I had the sudden desire to do it myself.
I leaned against the fridge. “Thank the good Lord for small miracles, huh?”
His gaze was averted as he took off his watch and set it on the island, but a small smile pulled on his lips.
My pulse pattered to an uneven beat. I’d come to the conclusion that even if I were to marry this man, he could give my heart nothing but tiny fissures and cracks—it didn’t know that, though. Or maybe it did, and the heart only took chances the brain would not. Thankfully, I’d always been a realist and usually reacted to the latter’s cues.
However, an entirely different part of me controlled my actions regarding him: base instincts. This was how the human species kept populating. Unyielding attraction and lust. And Mother Nature wouldn’t let me forget there was a male in his prime nearby.
We’d been doing something we shouldn’t have yesterday. It wasn’t like we’d crossed a direct line, but we’d undeniably dipped a couple toes on the other side. It would be much easier to dip a few more the next time. It was a dangerous slope, and I just needed to stay away from it completely.
I had no idea how he would regard me now—now that I’d asked him to disrespect me. I planned to pretend it had never happened, but my body hadn’t forgotten. It sang in his presence, my stupid heart warming and not knowing what was good for it.
As he came around the island, I tipped my wine cooler out to him in a gesture asking him to open it.
He watched me as if he definitely remembered I’d asked him to disrespect me yesterday and he wouldn’t pretend otherwise, though his expression was indifferent, like it was nothing new to him. I was positive it wasn’t. I’d had his phone for two minutes max and received a naked picture. I couldn’t imagine what I’d see if I had it all day.
He took the bottle from my hand and twisted off the cap. Right before he gave it back, he took a drink while looking at me all the while. My stomach erupted with butterflies from sharing with him, but I ignored the ridiculous feeling.